Chapter Text
As they all stood around in the cold Scoops Ahoy, Dustin considered himself a good friend, but he wasn’t sure if he was good enough for all of this.
“Mike, be a dear and take out the trash, will you?” Robin said, eating a spoonful of ice cream. She was on the clock, by the way.
Mike grumbled under his breath, pulling at his hat and retreating behind the counter. Has Dustin ever mentioned the idiotic little ponytail at the back of Mike’s head when he works? It’s honestly useless, and it sticks out angrily. He swore the only reason Robin made him wear it was that they had some sort of secret beef with one another. Once, Steve yanked him by it when he got mad, which felt appropriate.
Oh, and Mike was still wearing a woman’s size XL shirt. Not that it mattered, but it was funny. It sort of worked on him, actually.
“Oh my god!” Steve cried out, staring at his phone.
“What?” Dustin leaned on the counter. Max shook her head.
“My date just bailed for tonight! Are you kidding me? I already told my parents I would have one!
“Really?” Robin said. “She bailed again? No way! That’s seriously just messed up, Steve. Why are you talking to a girl like that?”
“Well, you’ve seen her, right? She’s beautiful,” Max said.
“...Yeah, actually, I definitely get it. But no one deserves to be flaked on!”
“She’s leaving it on read,” Steve said. “Yep. This is so, so bad. Shit, Rob, you know how my parents get.”
“Ooh, boy, do I. Glad that’s not my problem—”
“...Wait.” Steve blinked, still staring at the phone. “My parents just sent me a text. Whoa, last time they did that was last December.”
“Oh man, this is gonna be comedy gold. Max, pay attention.” Dustin grinned and rubbed his hands together. He leaned closer over the counter, which was definitely a health hazard. But no one was in the store except a mom and her 5-year-old son, and Steve and Robin were terrible bosses, so they didn’t care.
“‘Dear Steve Harrington III,’ my mom texted, ‘The chef is preparing the chitlins tonight, so you will not need to bring home red champagne. We look forward to meeting your date, Robin, tonight. Sincerely, Daniel Harrington and Mrs. Harrington.’ Aw, dude! Gross!” Steve snorted, about to cackle. “They think we’re dating, Rob.”
Robin grinned, looking extremely amused. “But I’m— pft, I’m a flaming lesbian—”
Max looked terrified. Was she homophobic?
“Why is your mom never named, Steve?” Dustin asked.
Robin and Steve took one good look at each other and started laughing hysterically. Robin doubled over, holding the edge of the counter for support.
Max stood there watching them. “Chitlins?”
Dustin stared at them. Then, he interjected with, “Wait, that’s actually a good idea. Just bring Robin.”
“Haha! Oh, man! That’s a trainwreck waiting to happen! Right… Steve…?” Robin turned around in horror.
Nope. Steve looked at her with sudden insight.
Dustin predicted this.
“Oh, no. No, no, no! I am not pretending to be straight in front of a bunch of tight-laced rich dudes. Nope. I have plans tonight. They do not happen to include cozying up to Steve Harrington III!”
“Robin! I know for a fact you’re free. You don’t have to pretend to be straight, you can just… play a convincing date act, for me? You don’t even need to physically touch me. One-time deal?”
“Actually, yeah,” Dustin scratched his chin. “How is it plausible that anyone is going to look at Robin and see someone who likes dudes?
“What makes you think that my parents care enough to tell if someone's gay? They don’t even give a crap about me, and I’m their son. Also, what am I supposed to tell them either way? Sorry, parents, Robin will never date me. Not because I’m ugly, but because she only kisses girls. Sorry to disappoint you all. Love, Steve.”
“Well, yes, Steve! You say just that! It’s not outing if I’m already out!” Robin cried.
Steve threw his hands up.
Max also pulled out her phone. “Your parents already follow her on Instagram, Steve, and she has ‘yes, i listen to girl in red, out and proud’ in her bio.” Max pointed out.
Robin peeked over Max’s shoulder. “Hey, no phones on shift. Hold on—Ooh. My dashboard is good, huh? Those photography lessons from Jon finally helped…”
Max pulled a face.
“They actually run a family lineage account,” Steve pointed out, as if it made any sort of difference. “And they don’t know what any of that stuff means. If they cared enough to talk to me, they would be asking me why she loves the outdoors so much. Now, Robin…”
“No. Absolutely not. A thousand times no.”
“Come on, Robin! Please! This is a great idea. You get good food, get free drinks, and chill in my house…”
“Actually, your house is really nice… uh, that’s besides the point! I am not a wine-drunk type of person, and sheesh, is chitlins considered good food? Trust me when I say this, Steve; you do not want me as your fake girlfriend. I am nowhere near girlfriend material. An upside down dimension could take over before I even consider that.”
“I am so thankful I live in a trailer,” Max whispered.
“Dude, I’m the only one who’s gonna actually have to go through this stupid rich people party,” Dustin whispered back.
Max made a gesture. “You get drinks, at least.”
“Yeah, if I can sneak any past the royal security guards—”
“Rob! It’s just for tonight’s dinner party. Please?”
That was the exact moment when Mike walked back through the door, clearly working up a sweat. Hearing only the last part of the conversation, he said too loudly, “Hey, isn’t Nance going to that dinner-thing tonight?”
“Hell yes, I’ll be your fake girlfriend!” Robin turned around, perhaps a bit too happy.
Dustin hasn’t prayed to God ever since the 8th grade when Dart abandoned him, but now felt like an extremely attractive time to start.
“Robin!” Steve cried. “What the actual fuck. That’s my ex!”
“Why is Nancy even going, anyway?” Mike asked.
“Uh. Max?” Dustin turned his head to find Max already staring at him with an incredible mixture of terror and confusion.
“What the hell is happening?”
Dustin felt like he was shivering. “This is about to get a lot more interesting, I’ll say that much.”
“Also, Robin as a girlfriend?” Mike finally said, disgusted. He attempted to scoop the frozen ice cream, which, as a consequence, kept curling up wrong. Had he even washed his hands before handling it? Remind Dustin to only eat what Max served him. “Why?”
“No offense taken,” Robin said without being prompted.
“That’s not what I said. Why?” Mike said.
“Date bailed,” Dustin, Max, and Steve answered simultaneously.
Mike looked incredibly skeptical, though maybe the disuse of the ice cream scooper was the cause. “Why do you need a girlfriend for that?”
Steve shrugged. “The same reason red champagne doesn’t go well with chitlins.”
“What the actual fuck does that mean, Steve?” Dustin said.
“Hey,” Robin said, piping up. “Actually, I’ll go only if I can bring a plus one.”
“What?” Steve said. “You’re already going as my date. Wh— fine, I guess. Who do you want to bring?”
—
“There’s actually no fucking way.” Steve crossed his arms.
“Eddie!” Dustin yelled, running into Eddie’s arms.
“Good to see ya, bud. C’mon, Steve! You’re actin’ we aren’t the best buddies in the whole goddamn universe?” Eddie wrapped an arm around Steve, then pulled Dustin closer in as well.
Shit, Dustin forgot to switch scenes. Right, okay, here’s capital T The context: After their Scoops Ahoy shift, the three musketeers sauntered on down to Robin’s humble abode, where, of course, the evil dungeon master himself stood.
“How, in the goddamn universe,” Steve spoke muffled into Eddie’s side, “are we going to make Eddie presentable enough for a fancy dinner party?”
Eddie grinned, rubbing circles along his back. “The same way we make Robin look straight— we don’t!”
Eddie and Robin burst out laughing.
“Why is Eddie coming, Robin?” Steve yelled, unamused. “You know who my parents are.”
“Oh, are you insinuating something? Who doesn’t want to go to a fancy-pants rich person's dinner party?” Eddie smiled. “Try all of that caviar and truffles and lobster feet and floop juice? Sounds like the best time to me.”
Eddie is, perhaps, one of the most egalitarian people that Dustin has ever known. In adjacent words, he hates rich people so much that he pirates everything. He has a 7-year-old broken Android because he refuses to give money to a megacorporation. He hasn’t bought new clothes in 10 years.
Robin laughed. “Wow! What a riot this Eddie guy is.”
Eddie made a touching gesture, wiping a tear away.
“What a kind, funny, charismatic young man, isn’t he? You’re telling me this beautiful man doesn’t have a soft spot in your heart?” Robin preened.
Steve ran a hand through his hair, distressed. “When did you two get all friendly?”
Eddie batted his eyelashes.
“I just— I don’t get it. Are you trying to murder me?” Steve deadpanned.
“Uh, for clarification,” Robin said, “I just find this incredibly amusing. And I need this before I get either extremely wasted or extremely annoyed at the party.”
“Maybe, just maybe, both?” Eddie said.
“Henderson, please, help here. Oh, come on, you iPad kid—”
Ah, but it was far, far too late for that. The loyal young bard was… texting his friends.
party-general | DND on fridays
“Get off your phone! We need to plan, Dustin!”
“Okay, okay, whatever!” He dropped it onto his lap. “I’m literally the youngest here. Um. How about. How about we put everyone in outfits? We need suits and dresses and stuff.
“Dammit! That’s smart,” Steve scratched his chin. “I wish I had thought of that.”
Dustin blinked. “Steve, have you been daydrinking or something?”
Steve sighed. “It’s been a long day.”
—
“Who do you take me for?” Robin paced around her room, more a habit than an actual nervous tic. “I definitely do not have any dresses around.”
“Well, what do you have?” Dustin said.
“A suit?” Robin shrugged.
“Well,” Steve sighed. “That works, but it’s not gonna help with the allegations.”
“What allegations? Mine?” Eddie asked.
“Isn’t it obvious? The gay allegations,” Steve pulled open the cabinet. “No one asked about your allegations, Eddie.”
“It’s not an allegation if it’s true, Steve. Weren’t Eddie’s proven false in a court of law?” Robin asked, pulling her suit out from graduation. She walked into the other room to change.
“What?” Steve said.
“Big words,” Eddie grimaced.
Dustin sighed.
“Speaking of, you also need a suit, right?” Steve said, pointing to Eddie. “I actually have one that I got dry-cleaned in my bag right now. Try this one on. It’ll go well with your boots.” Steve, as stated, pulled a suit hanger out of his suspiciously small bag.
Dustin has stopped asking Steve and Robin about the weird things they do. Dustin has stopped asking Steve why he carries spare suits in his bag.
“Dressing me up, big boy?” Eddie smirked.
There was never any reason to question Eddie.
Steve flushed, fixing his hair. “Go change!”
Now that Eddie and Robin were gone to change, it was just Steve and Dustin.
“Dustin, if I don’t survive this,” Steve sighed, “Make sure that no one gets into my social media accounts, okay?”
“...What. What’s on your social media accounts?”
“...No can say. Just don’t let anyone. Especially Eddie or Robin. Oh, god forbid Jonathan gets ahold of—”
—
party-general | DND on fridays
—
“Yeah, I figured that’s what they’d say.” Eddie grinned at the phone. “Man, those kids are funny. I miss them! I miss Hellfire. Should I reenroll in high school to start it up again?”
“Don’t do that to yourself again, man,” Dustin said. “You were already a super senior.”
“But I heard from a little birdie that you’ve taken my role over? In school?” Eddie grinned, adjusting the front of his suit jacket. He didn’t look too terrible, honestly. It was definitely a weird look on him, especially when Dustin knew exactly where the bat tattoo he had laid under the sleeve.
“Eh. Not exactly, but I guess. I don’t think the basketball team likes me much. Hey, random question, should I get a bridge piercing?” Dustin raised his eyebrows.
“Why you asking me? I think it’s cool, but do it only if you want it, man. Because as long as you’re not conforming, they’re gonna be like that, man. A lot of those people are shallow-minded sheep. You just keep going the way you go, okay?”
“That’s the plan,” Dustin grinned. “Thanks, Eddie. And, uh… honestly, I’m really happy you and Steve are here, did you know that?”
“Yeah?” Eddie said, not unkindly, but as an indicator for him to continue.
“Yeah! You guys have always been there to guide me and help me out, you know? I really appreciate that. Robin too. They’ve always been cool to me, even when I was just some random middle schooler.”
Eddie grinned toothily. “They’re good people, aren’t they?”
“Oh, for sure. Anyways, why are you here, Eddie? Like, actually. I’m just confused because you hate rich people. Aren’t you all, eat the rich and all that?”
“Oh, believe me,” Eddie laughed with a knowing look. “I’ve definitely eaten the rich.”
Dustin stopped, horrified.
“What?”
“I’m joking, man! You should’ve seen the look on your face. I’m not a cannibal,” Eddie cackled.
“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that’s—okay.” Dustin breathed.
At that moment, Robin finally walked back in wearing her suit.
She made eye contact with Eddie and burst out laughing immediately, which was frankly terrifying and not a great sign whatsoever.
“Eddie!” She cried, hysterical. “Oh my god! I heard everything!”
Eddie rolled over and started laughing so hard he hit the floor.
What the fuck?
Dustin closed his eyes and prayed. Dustin will never ask these three questions again.
—
“So, you are Robin, hm?” Mrs. Harrington said.
“Uh— yes, yes, I am. I’m… Steve’s…date.” Robin sounded constipated.
“Yes, she is,” Steve said in a painful smile that was quickly turning into a grimace.
“Ah, Melissa Buckley’s daughter! I remember her. She was quite odd. Must I say, your photography is stunning! I watch your Instagram page on our Family Lineage account often. Now, there is no need to discuss your styling choices, of course.”
“Whoa, really? Yeah, thanks!” Robin smiled awkwardly.
“That green dress you wore on your last date? One tip when with a Harrington: prioritize class, hm?”
“Green dress…? Steve—!” Robin gasped. “Miss, wait, that wasn’t a real p—”
But Mrs. Harrington was already done with her. She was now making searing eye contact with Dustin. She started walking very slowly toward him, with unblinking blue eyes and a placid smile.
Steve yanked her away by the arm in an unmistakably platonic manner. They were an awful couple.
Out of the corner of his ear, he heard Robin whisper angrily, “Why didn’t you just tell ChatGPT to change that godawful dress?”
Dustin continued eye contact with Mrs. Harrington as she made her way towards him.
Steve whispered back, “I had no time! It’s not my fault that ChatGPT wanted to give you that dress!”
“Steve, you literally control the AI; that’s the point of asking them to generate an image for you! I mean, first of all, you’re the one who insisted on using AI. You wasted like—a gallon of water on that. Second, you give yourself a cool ass mohawk and not me? Third, that dress was just—Are you, like, homophobic or something?”
“Oh my god—Robin! I’ll make it up to you, okay—?”
Finally, Mrs. Harrington, who had been walking very, very slowly in her tall heels, finally stood in front of Dustin.
“Oh, and you must be young Henderson!” Mrs. Harrington said, a little too calmly.
“Yes, I am,” Dustin said with his winning smile. Unlike the two others, Dustin was charismatic enough to pull this off. He extended a hand outward, to which Mrs. Harrington shook.
Unfortunately, she then paused for about 10 seconds. “Why, Henderson, you’ve got er… caviar on your lip.”
“Huh? Oh, do you mean my… uh, moles?”
Steve glared daggers at him. Okay, maybe Dustin hadn’t been willing enough to take his piercings out.
“I… I see. Moles? Perhaps you should get that checked out. It’s, uh… And who is the third fellow?”
“What’s up—” Dustin nudged Eddie. Eddie continued in a British accent. “I mean, good morning, your majesty.”
Then, Eddie did an overly dramatic bow, getting down on a knee as if he were lower than her.
“Hm. I like this one,” Mrs. Harrington smiled.
“My name…” Eddie paused for dramatic suspense. ”Is Edward Ivana Tinkle Hemingway. Everyone calls me by my middle name.”
Oh god. Oh my god. Dustin sees the train. It’s about to hit them all.
…No, like literally, there’s a tiny working model train displayed in the middle of the room. It’s coming towards them.
“I…vanna tinkle?” Mrs. Harrington clarified, completely sincerely.
“Yes,” Eddie said peacefully. “That is okay. Go ahead, then.”
“No, no—Miss,” Dustin snorted awkwardly, accidentally slipping into an English accent as well. “Just call him Eddie.”
Eddie grinned childishly. Dustin held his laugh in his stomach, keeping composure.
“Hm. That’s wonderful. But which do you prefer, Edward?” Mrs. Harrington said, with a placid finger on her chin.
“Just the middle names, please and thank you…” Eddie smiled peacefully.
“Eddie, no—” Dustin whispered. “Steve is gonna be so pissed.”
“Oh, I know what I’m doing, Dustin. Trust me, okay?” Eddie said britishly.
The train passed by them, chugging along the tracks quite loudly for such a tiny working miniature. Mrs. Harrington was already gone, moving somewhere else to meet the sorts of other people who otherwise exist nowhere.
“What’s up with her? Is she lobotomized or something?” Eddie whispered.
Dustin pinched his nose. “Eddie, why did you do that?”
Eddie smiled peacefully. “Do what?”
—
Mr. Harrington was, to say, a complete and utter bitch.
Dustin had tried, okay? Dustin had gone up to him and said, "Hello, Mr. Harrington. You seem like a cool guy. Do you prefer Schrodinger or Heisenberg?"
Mr. Harrington had taken one good look at Eddie, at Robin, and at Dustin, and simply walked away. Steve hadn’t even said more than 10 words to him before he did so.
"I thought rich people were supposed to be educated. Can't I just have one smart person around to talk to?" Dustin grumbled out.
"Well, Robin's here, but she's probably already drunk. Here, let me try. Were you talking about Breaking Bad?" Eddie asked him.
Dustin stared at Eddie unbreakingly for a minute.
"Okay, sorry. I'll go," Eddie said, backing away with his hands up. "See ya!"
“Wait. Jonathan? Hey, looking classy! What are you doing here?” Dustin said, running towards him.
Jonathan was brooding in the corner, as he sometimes does. Even in a brown suit, he looked pissed.
“Do I look like I want to be here?” Jonathan scoffed. “In this elitist, classist home?”
Dustin shook his head. “Not particularly, no.”
“Nancy said networking.” Jonathan fiddled around with the camera. “She’s over there on the left, talking to that old man. I mean. She’s right, it’s just that… all these people are sort of insufferable.”
Dustin sat down next to him. “Oh my god, right?” Dustin whispered. “Nobody wants to talk to us either! Wasn’t this a dinner party? Does youth scare them or something?”
“I think they just hate poor people,” Jonathan said, looking through his camera roll. “I took some good pictures here, though.”
“Can I see?”
“Yeah. Look, this one, I call it the consumer.” It was a picture of Steve Harrington halfway through a cup of caviar.
Dustin snickered, the picture focusing on Steve’s double chin. “Oh, I get it. It’s like a double entendre.”
“I’m planning to use these pictures for my short film.”
“What’s the film?” Dustin said, intrigued.
“It’s also called The Consumer,” Jonathan said. “Look, there’s Harrington Junior himself.”
Lo and behold, Steve was wandering over with Robin next to him. They, again, were standing 6 feet apart.
“Oh, yes, we are very in love,” Steve said absentmindedly to some old guy in a suit.
Robin sighed. “For sure.” She threw an arm around his shoulder, now standing 5 feet apart. “This guy right here is my little Stevie…pie…”
“Are they… uh, pretending to date?” Jonathan whispered. “This is the most awkward idea I’ve seen.”
“It’s not quarantine anymore, guys. Why are you so far apart?” Dustin said.
“Steve, I just don’t know how I’m supposed to act like your date if I like women… yes, I do want the hors d'oeuvres, thank you.” Robin smiled at the waiter who was walking by their table.
Jonathan looked incredibly confused. “Robin, you just told the waiter that you like women.”
Robin blinked. Steve’s jaw dropped.
“Oh shit!” Steve said. “They work for my parents!”
Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah, they do.”
“You don’t gotta be a prick about it,” Steve said, offended.
“All I did was agree!” Jonathan said, offended.
“Hey, lovebirds!” Nancy yelled, calling them over. Jonathan and Steve turned their heads, looking a bit offended.
Steve poked a finger into Jonathan’s chest. “This isn’t over!”
Jonathan rolled his eyes and left him. Steve immediately picked up his pace, chasing after Jonathan.
The two of them were now making their way over, grumbling.
Robin blinked. “Wow, she wasn’t lying when she said they responded to that.”
“Hi,” a girly voice said behind him. Dustin turned around.
Oh. It was… Stacey Albright? She had rejected him at a school dance in 8th grade, hadn’t she?
“Dustin, right? So, like, what are you doin’ here?” Stacey whipped her curled ginger hair over her shoulder.
Holy shit. She was gorgeous, but also she remembered his name.
“Y’know what? I actually like your style.” Stacey said, glossy lips tilted in an unreadable way. “It’s kind of hot. Like, you clean up nicely.”
Was she… flirting with him?
—
party-general | DND on fridays
—
Jane was right, obviously. She always was. Stacey was the most shallow girl he had met in a while.
Dustin stood there, at least pretending to enjoy the company of these people (unlike certain other people he knew). It was for Steve, right?
Okay, Stacey was pretty too.
Stacey laughed. “So, yeah, so, I mean, there were these kids, right, but like they were poor. And I was like—”
“A lot of poor people don’t like us!” Some random rich person laughed. “Jealousy, likely. No offense, Henderson.”
“None taken,” Dustin grimaced.
“Hey, Dustin, do you like Nirvana, like, by any chance?”
“Oh.” Dustin looked around. “Uh. They’re okay. I think Max likes them more than me. Why?”
Stacey blinked. “Who is Max? Anyways, you look like you listen to them. I have a pink Nirvana sweatshirt. Have you noticed me wear it?”
“Really?” Dustin said. He hadn’t noticed. “Yeah, I think so!”
“I actually prefer Taylor Swift, though,” Stacey said, curling hair around her finger.
Dustin perked up. He immediately thought of El, which made him want to leave the party and go home.
“What? Really? I actually like Taylor Swift, too, kinda. It’s a secret, okay? I liked her third album.”
Stacey lit up. Oh, now they were getting somewhere.
“Hey, Dustin!” Robin called him over from across the room. “Can you, uh—help me, real quickly?”
Stacey blinked.
“Uh. Looks like Robin is calling me over. See you… around?”
Stacey looked at him oddly. “Uh. Okay.” She was likely never going to talk to him at school. Like, ever.
Dustin walked over to Robin, who was leaning against the table.
“Hey. Did you need saving?” Robin grinned.
“...I mean, it was going alright. We were talking about Taylor Swift.”
Robin scrunched her nose because she was one of those music elitists, like the rest of his friends.
“What? Why does everyone hate Taylor? I find her music interesting at times.” Dustin put his hands on his hips.
“Taylor's not bad, I guess. But… uh, oh. Sorry.” Robin rubbed the back of her head. “I didn’t mean to block you, then. Seriously, what else were you guys even talking about? What did you and she have in common?”
“No, she was really shallow. I had no clue what we were talking about. But she’s pretty,” Dustin grinned.
Robin laughed. “Following in Steve’s footsteps?”
“God, I hope not.” Dustin grimaced for what felt like the thousandth time. "Hey, Rob?"
"Yeah?"
"Heisenberg or Schrodinger?"
Robin laughed. "Isn't it obvious? They're both great. You can't just pick one, Dustin. Both are important for that fundamental understanding of quantum physics."
Dustin balked. Seriously?
“God, speaking of, I need more drinks if I’m expected to be Steve’s date. Wanna come with me?” Robin said.
Dustin blinked. “Hey… not to be a buzzkill, but you’re already tipsy, are you not?”
Robin gave him a look.
Dustin gave up. “Okay. Whatever. Let’s go.”
—
party-general | DND on fridays
“Hey, Nancy!” Steve cried.
Nancy was standing against the wall, nursing a wine glass, a binder and wearing a long purple dress. Her hair was tied up in a curly bun, just enough class to look fitting here, but clearly professional.
“Nancy? Oh, hello, Nancy!” Robin said, slightly tipsy by now. “You look… just, wow. You look wow tonight.”
“You really do,” Steve said.
“I mean, I almost didn’t recognize you, right now.” Robin smiled.
“No, really! The… the whole outfit is wow. Wow.”
“Wow,” Robin grinned, leaning against the wall now. Oh god, she really was drunk now.
“Hey, you two. Did you just imply that I’m not… wow… on a regular basis?” Nancy tilted her head, holding her wine glass.
The two looked like their hearts dropped and cracked onto the floor. They visibly melted. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t sad.
“What— No, no no no no! No! Nancy, you are beautiful! Uh… a beautiful person, that is.” Robin smiled awkwardly. Her face was very flushed, from alcohol, likely.
“Oh, no, that’s not what we meant at all, Nancy! Seriously!” Steve smiled too, face flushed.
Robin and Steve were insufferable. No one at this party believed they were actually together, did they?
“Hey, Dustin?” Eddie said with a hand on his cheek, leaning against a table that was about to topple over. “Is it a bad look if they’re both much more visibly interested in the pretty journalist down the hall than in each other, and Steve’s parents are standing right there watching them from the balcony?”
“I’m gonna kill both of them before this night’s over,” a very exhausted Jonathan said next to him.
“Now, are you talking about the hivemind, buddy, or the millionaire parents? Because I can get behind one of those ideas…” Eddie whispered.
“How about both?” Jonathan sipped on his wine.
Eddie shrugged. “I need like… oh, about 10 minutes with Steve first. You need help, right?”
Jonathan angled his head towards Eddie. “That’s fine with me. I’ll go get Nancy while you do whatever you need to do. Sound like a plan?”
Eddie grinned toothily, which was a terrible sign.
“Okay, seriously, what the fuck is going on?” Dustin nearly yelled. But the old rich man on the left eyed the three of them, so he shut up and smiled at him.
The man narrowed his eyes.
“What a touching friendship you all have. Robin and Steve are great partners,” Mrs. Harrington said from somewhere.
Robin and Steve were still talking to Nancy, who looked very amused. The two were most definitely wasted, platonic, and waving their arms frantically.
Mr. Harrington stared at Steve. “Steve, please—”
“You know what?” Eddie suddenly yelled, standing on the table like he did when he got laughed at in Dustin’s freshman year. “Screw you rich assholes! You guys eat shitty ass food, and you’re all perfect and flawless, and you wonder why everyone in Hawkins hates you! That’s why your son is in my—” Eddie began, but was cut off by Steve, who had run over quicker than Dustin had ever seen him and covered his mouth with a palm.
Robin shrugged and walked over. “Yeah, and I’m gay!” She drank the rest of Eddie’s glass.
Mr Harrington was calling security frantically, terrified. Mrs. Harrington’s eyes were blown wide open. “R—Robin… you’re gay?”
“Yes! I’m gay!” Robin sighed in relief, saying it loudly as if it had been on the tip of her tongue this whole time. “I’m gay, everyone! I’m gay!”
Dustin facepalmed. Wasn’t this supposed to be some fancy dinner party?
The room went quiet. Robin had just come out for the tenth time in her life, likely. This time, it was in a room of 20+ people.
Dustin turned his head. Nancy and Jonathan were talking, smiling, and laughing in the corner.
Dustin wondered if Steve should be angrier, but he looked as if he were… uh, enjoying this. Oh god, he was smiling. He enjoyed Eddie and Robin cussing out his parents. Hm.
“You know what?” Dustin stepped up onto a table, too. “Since everyone else gets to make their own speeches, I’ve decided that I… am done too. Fuck you guys. I tried to be good for Steve, okay? But this whole…order and conformity stuff isn’t for me. I hope you guys understand that. I’m sick of this suit. Does anyone have a diploma I can snatch? Screw the system, screw this suit, screw conformity—”
“Dustin. Stop,” Steve said.
“No. Keep going, Dustin,” Eddie said.
Everyone else in the room stared at him, unsure of who he even was. Stacey was somewhere in there, smiling at him.
“Wait. Before I forget…” Dustin stuck his tongue out and pulled his cap off, drawing a delicate tally underneath losses. “One loss for Mike… one loss for Max… one loss for both Robin and Steve and Jonathan and Eddie and Nancy— man, no one’s winning tonight, are they?”
Security guards appeared behind him. They had already gotten Eddie and Robin.
“Okay.” Dustin sighed, picking his pen back up. “One loss for me.”